'Small Works' Is A Shocker In An Eerily Pleasant Way

May 20, 1986|By Laura Stewart Dishman, Sentinel Art Critic

'Small Works,'' Valencia Community College's 12th annual juried competition, inspires dread. That's not to say that its 31 works make a dreadful exhibit -- far from it. But it does mean that viewing those small works is an experience to be approached with caution.

The first work inside the gallery sets the show's anxious tone. ''How Can You Lure a Little Boy from the Woods?,'' a mixed-media drawing by Greg Carter of Tallahassee, glows with hot, Day-Glo hues and an ominous mood. Its expressionistically distorted forms look as if they are about to burst from a frame of loosely braided, rubbery snakes.

Overwhelmingly repulsive, Carter's work is nonetheless witty and well- crafted. The lurid tones, forms and subject of ''How Can You Lure A Little Boy from the Woods?'' are an ideal match for the work's message of nightmarish fear and fascination. And the sticky, creepy-crawly frame fits the work as no other border could. The piece is a cautionary, moralistic tale told in modern terms, and it's a triumph.

Other works in the show deal more obviously with eerie, instinctive anxiety. Most notable are ''Neil II,'' a lopsided mask by Josette Urso of Tampa and ''Dikki Jo Mullen,'' a visually unbalanced photograph by Robert Eginton of Winter Springs.

At first glance, Urso's horned mask looks like an updated version of a primitive form, its uneven features only vaguely approximating some human source. Giving the illusion of totemic association without drawing from any discernible tradition, the mask is a brightly decorated icon that evokes unpleasant, uncomfortable and even demonic associations.

Similarly, Eginton's tight, crowded portrait of the Orlando mystic tells the viewer all he needs to know to understand the subject -- and her odd profession. Perched on the edge of a sofa in a room jammed with such evocative knickknacks as a crystal ball and ritual candles, Dikki Jo looks like a thin, dark-eyed eagle in search of prey. Above her crouched form, cupboard doors are flung wide as if opened by a strange force moving through the room.

Traditionally, art made its viewers comfortable. It's only in the past century or so that art has sought to unsettle its viewers, and it's only recently that works have been viewed as anxious objects. In keeping with the times, ''Small Works'' has adopted the new tradition of shocking its viewers. A few works, however, are at odds with the show's overall tone. A somewhat sentimental subject -- a child's magic show -- gives ''Now You See It! Now You Don't,'' a handmade-paper construction by Joan Zimmerman of Sanford, a jarringly cheerful tone. And ''Last Supper at the Lawrence Country Club,'' a fuzzy watercolor by Sandy Lerman of West Palm Beach, recasts Leonardo da Vinci's Renaissance masterpiece in a vastly amusing, contemporary guise.

Most works, however, are like ''Untitled I,'' a black-and-white photograph of a graveyard at sunset by Julie Anne Long of Winter Park. More than anything else, Long's morbid study suggests the sort of image one would find in a sepia that is slowly fading to obscurity in a family album.

Instead it's on a gallery wall, contributing to the unusual -- and unusually effective -- tone of oppression and tension that characterizes the impressive ''Small Works.''

Consistently one of the area's finest shows, in terms of its fine installation and of the works included, the annual juried competition is less lyrical and romantic this year than in the past. But it is just as unforgettable.

The exhibit's 31 pieces were selected from 258 entries by New York art consultant Claudia Gould.